Love Your Hair
In high school, I had a couple of friends who were going prematurely bald. It was HILARIOUS. We would bust on them for hours about it. They weren’t bald-bald, but the forests were beginning to thin. I was particularly arrogant because I had long hair and whenever I got a cut, the barber used a special pair of shears to thin my hair. I literally had too much hair. It was blonde and a little wavy. I usually kept it in a bowl cut parted down the middle. Very cool. I dyed it different colors. Note the super cool flip on one side.
Honestly, I wish I still had that sweet Silverchair shirt.
I loved my hair. But I didn’t appreciate it. I didn’t shampoo it with anything more expensive than $1 bottles of Suave. Conditioner — forget about it. As I mentioned, I dyed it a lot. I took it for granted and never fully appreciated my full head of hair. That is… until…
BALD CITY
I will spare you the gory details by not having an accompanying picture of the tragedy. We’ve been through enough this year. The last thing 2020 needs is a closeup of my bald spot. Spots, now actually. But just know that upon my head lie the ruins of, as George Costanza put it, a once-great society of hair.
I never imagined myself as a vain person. Or at least, one that would ever care about being bald. I’m lucky in that I have a fairly normal head shape so I can just shave it off. In some ways, this is the coward’s way out: the proverbial “you can’t fire me because I quit” except with hair. It didn’t quit me. I quit it. It’s not a bad look. But what I wouldn’t give to have long locks once again. I would be so good to it.
I’d use expensive shampoos and conditioners. I’d treat it with hot oil and avocado rinds or whatever. I told you I didn’t know how to take care of my hair earlier! I’d be all over IG picking up tips so my hair was as beautiful and luxurious as the delicious Jonathan Van Ness.
My plea to you today is this: If you have hair, love it. Cherish it. Spoil it. Do everything you can to enjoy it. And I know that this will fall upon a lot of deaf ears. After all, take at a look at this gorgeous hunk of teenage beef below and tell me if you think he would have listened. It’s a Patriots fan wearing a Jerry Rice jersey (????) for some reason.
Cool acne bro!
I wouldn’t have listened. I would have made fun of you and dyed my hair purple after bleaching it for the 200th time. Look at that stupid smug teenage face. You can smell the dumb coming off that boy. Little did he know what Fate had resigned his fortune to.
You don’t have to be like him, though. You can still save whatever follicles you have. Use Rogaine ASAP. It works! I used it for a while and it gave me some time. It’s like a new disease drug for your pet. Sure, Fido will die eventually, but this medication will give you more TIME. And really, that’s all life is. Time.
Live, dammit. Love your hair as you would your most precious organ. Because, someday, it might end up staring back at you as it circles the shower drain, an expression of WHYYYYY upon its face as it slowly slips into the black below. This doesn’t have to be your fate. Don’t listen to me. Take it from the foremost balding expert in the world: